


Sweet Consequence

by LeafZelindor



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Fluffy, Gift Fic, M/M, Potterlock, mystradesummerexchange, pacific rim if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-15
Updated: 2014-08-15
Packaged: 2018-02-13 05:41:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2139123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeafZelindor/pseuds/LeafZelindor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>7th year Mycroft makes an arbitrary bet with one Greg Lestrade over a Quiddich match. The results turn out better than he thought they might.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sweet Consequence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [internetpiratearrr](https://archiveofourown.org/users/internetpiratearrr/gifts).



> Written for the Mystrade Summer Exchange over on Tumblr. :)  
> Gift for http://monsieurghostylamp.tumblr.com/  
> Some Pacific Rim character crossovers if you squint, hope that's okay!

Mycroft still wasn't sure why he'd allowed himself to be drug to one of these pointless Qudditch matches. He had plenty he needed to be doing. His schoolwork might have been done, but he had correspondence waiting for him. However, Bastian had convinced him to come along. It was a rivalry match after all, Slytherin and Gryffindor. He bumped into someone and grunted a soft excuse. The other person, a Gryffindor to his surprise just laughed softly and offered his hand. He looked at the other teen properly, blinking at the handsome face, and silver hair? He knew this 7th year, Gregory Lestrade, Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team.

“My apologies, I assure I was not trying to jinx the game.” Mycroft found himself saying. He was greeted with a laugh.

“How about this? You win, I do something you chose. You win, We meet up in Hogsmeade next weekend. That'll make up for it.” Gregory offered easily. Mycroft looked faintly confused, did the other teen want him to try to jinx the game or something? “A bet so to speak.”

“Seems, impractical, to bet against yourself.” Mycroft pointed out easily now, he fixed his green and silver tie almost nervously. Gregory was, handsome, and obviously had hangers on who were watching the conversation curiously. 

“Bah, I like to live on the wild side.” Gregory offered his hand. Mycroft slowly allowed himself to shake it. “Deal then?”

“Ah, deal.” Mycroft agreed. He could think of several things he could easily demand of the other if Sytherin beat them. After all, meeting up in Hogsmeade was nothing, they could meet for the duration of one butterbeer and that would be the end of it. Greg saluted him with a wink. “Ta then” He turned and moved on, laughing at one of the girls not far away and blowing her a kiss. He headed to meet with the rest of the Gryffindor team. Mycroft felt odd now. He moved to find Bastian and the others, settling in to watch the game. He wasn't as enthusiastic as many of his house mates, but he found it, interesting. He watched the field, how the silver haired keeper played. He, wasn't even disappointed when they lost. Gregory actually flew a victory lap at the end, stopping in front of Mycroft. “Saturday then?”

“A bet is a bet, It would not be honorable of me to refuse.” Mycroft said quietly. Something was building inside him. Apprehension? Excitement? He wasn't sure. He saw the brilliance of Gregory's smile, Bastian was giving them both a curious look. Gregory winked and then nodded. “I'll meet you at the gate then, 10am.” He took off before Mycroft could argue. The Syltherin watched him go and then sighed, glancing at his friend.

“It was just a bet.” He said quietly Bastian laughed softly and patted his shoulder. “I must never go back on my agreements.”

“I know Holmes, No worries.” He moved to walk with him. “My brother wrote again.” He mused quietly. Mycroft chuckled. Bastian always wanted to talk about his brother. The fellow was interesting enough, obsessed with Arithmacy. “It seems he's gone and found himself a muggle life partner.”

“Oh? For some reason I'm surprised. He's always been a traditionalist.” Mycroft mused quietly. Bastian was bursting to tell him all about it though, if any Muggle could handle entering into their family, it sounded like this one was one. He tried not to think to much about what a stir that would cause, he had his own things to prepare for.

It seemed, that he now saw the grey haired Gryffindor everywhere. Gregory was always smiles and seemed friendly enough. Nodding in passing, greeting him at meals. It was odd. For the most part he nodded politely and even raised a hand in a wave midweek. So when Saturday arrived Mycroft got up and dressed, properly. By the time he arrived, on time at the gates he found himself unsurprised at the rugby jersey and jeans on the figure waiting for him. 

“Well don't you look nice.” Gregory's eyes seemed to drink him up. Mycroft repressed a shiver. He hummed briefly.

“You look comfortable” He replied calmly. Gregory chuckled and then nodded and moved to start walking down the path. Mycroft fell into step with him easily. “I'm Muggle born you know.” Gregory started rather casually. “Not a drop of magic blood in our family, though Mum thinks perhaps one of my Aunts maybe.” He chuckled softly. “Was, a real surprise to get my letter.”

“You seem to fit in well here however.” Mycroft pointed out. Gregory had a natural grace, one that some pure bloods didn't even have with magic. “You get good scores, you're looking into the Aurors after we leave here, aren't you.”

“I would be creeped out a bit, but your little brother is a first year. And I ran into him before.” Gregory chuckled softly and looked at him with a grin. Mycroft chuckled softly. Sherlock was making waves already, as they had expected he would. He had been sorted into Ravenclaw, but Mycroft wasn't completely sure if the boy hadn't convinced the sorting hat to put him there. 

“I'm glad you have survived meeting him.” He mused quietly. Sherlock had been well known for tearing students to shreds. He hadn't quite figured out when was the best time not to talk, certainly hadn't made many friends. 

“Bah, could have been worse.” Gregory shrugged and lazily one hand swung at his side. Mycroft hummed briefly, glancing sideways at it. “So, I was thinking we could have a butterbeer and get to know each other. I usually hit up the sweets shop first but, I thought I'd be considerate.”

“Considerate?” Mycroft felt a flicker of surprise. He usually avoided Honeydukes, not wanting to undo the hard work he'd put in trying to get more fit. 

“You don't eat sweets, or at least try to avoid them. I've seen how you sometimes look at the pudding in the Great Hall.” Gregory said with a shrug. “So the Three Broomsticks it is.” Mycroft wasn't sure what to say to that. He was a little embarrassed to have the other 7th year aware of his, sweet tooth and avoidance of sweets there of. “You know though, you look fine, a pudding once a week wouldn't hurt you.”

“..If I start I won't stop.” Mycroft protested. Gregory laughed a little at him, making him blink. “You don't understand really...”

“Sure I do, I remember how pudgy you got in 3rd year. Then by 5th you had slimmed down. It's okay to enjoy treats sometimes, You just have to learn moderation.” He pointed out. Mycroft flushed and then shifted, for a moment he wondered why the Gryffindor even cared. “My mum's a muggle nurse.” Gregory added. Mycroft nodded slowly. “So she's always prattling on about healthy eating and whatnot.”

“I see.” Mycroft was surprised to find that Gregory's chatter had lead them on down to the village proper and the silver haired teen grabbed the door to the Three Broomsticks with ease. Mycroft moved inside now, smiling to see the pub wasn't to busy yet. Madame Rosmarta waved at them. “Take a seat where you like dearies” She chirped. Mycroft moved to select a table, since Gregory had moved towards the bar. He felt faintly, jealous to see the other teen flirt a bit with the proprietor. She laughed him off and handed over the butterbeers with a wink. Gregory was all smiles as he made his way over and deposited one drink in front of Mycroft. 

“Don't look so sour. She'd be sad if I didn't flirt with her.” Gregory said. Mycroft startled, had he been that obvious? He hadn't intended to be. Sherlock would have his head if he could read him that way. “Hey relax. I'm here to be with you.” Those words, they, well he had to admit they made him blush.

“Gregory, what was the point of our bet last week?” Mycroft asked quickly, he took a sip of the warming drink now.

“I couldn't think of a better way to ask you out.” The frank response made him choke as he tried to swallow. Gregory reached over to pat his shoulder. “Take a breath and another swallow.” He coaxed soothingly. Mycroft managed to bring himself back under control. His cheeks were still red though and he felt beyond mortified. Gregory's hand had settled over his, holding it solidly. Mycroft swallowed slowly and just blinked at him a moment.

“You, wanted to ask me out.” He said slowly. Gregory gave him a brilliant smile, it made him feel warm inside.

“Yes, you see I find that I'm often fantasizing about pulling you into darkened corners and snogging you senseless.” He was serious. Mycroft couldn't read anything else in the statement, in his face. This muggleborn really truly wanted to be with him.

“...Is that so.” He licked his lips and then let himself drink a bit more of his butterbeer, managing not to choke this time. He twisted his hand gently to let their fingers lace together. “I, might be amiable to that.”

“Oh good.” Could his smile get any brighter. Greg raised his free hand to call for another round of butterbeer. “Hungry?”

“...Starved” Mycroft found himself saying. He wasn't sure where this would go. He was sure his father would hate it, but he wanted it, he was willing to risk it. Just to see, where it might go.


End file.
